


Nine Point Eight

by AmazingLettuce



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, and dear, death called sleep and the like, em sleepy child later on, if this mysteriously disappears it is also on my ffn account, suicide but not really y'know?, uh generous use of the word beloved, y'know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingLettuce/pseuds/AmazingLettuce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mistake smiled serenely as the wind tousled his spiky brown hair. With glassy eyes facing forward, and sun kissed arms outstretched, he let out a deep sigh. The wind whipped around the boy frantically, as if begging him not to do it. Not to jump. The wind calmed down and the child fell forward. The mistake had erased this world's only blemish; himself. "Let me love you, dear."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Point Eight

I.

The sky wanted to sleep.

II.

First he was a boy with black hair and golden eyes. He was an intimidating person, with a dangerous aura. He experienced life through the motions, always with a scowl on his face. He glared at anyone who looked at him too long, or came very close to him. He was not a kind person, not according to most people, anyway. He was a force to be reckoned with. 

His name was Vanitas.

And he was only seventeen when he went to sleep.

It was just like any other day. Vanitas had woken up late for school, and had to skip out on breakfast. Calmly walking out of his house, he checked the time on his phone. He had missed the bus, just like he always did, and instead jogged to the subway. Paying for his ticket he leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone to wait for the train.

Chatter filled the station as people milled about, greeting one another and talking over the phone. Vanitas liked to listen to the other people. It was nice to just observe and hear about their individual lives. He found it entertaining whenever he heard an 'Oh, Kelly's having another baby! Can you believe it? Another!’ or a 'How did you do on that driving test? I bet you passed it with flying colors, girlfriend!’

Then the lights flickered and the noise hushed. Looking up from his phone, Vanitas glared at the people around him. It was just a few lights, calm down people. 

Shortly after things returned to normal, the subway car pulled up to the station, sliding open its doors for everyone to climb on. The chatter soon picked up again.

It was not easy to unsettle Vanitas. Most people would even say it was impossible. But that man in the leather jacket hiding his hands bothered the golden eyed boy.

The car sped off swiftly and suddenly, knocking over a few people. What was going on? This doesn't usually happen. The car is moving too fast! It’s going to derail!

Carefully weaving his way through the crowd of people, he helped pull some to their feet. He helped small children crouch underneath seats and moved elders and women on board away from windows. 

The car shook and gears squealed.

The lights buzzed and went out.

The man in the leather jacket pulled out a gun.

Vanitas heard an earsplitting bang and ithurtsithurtswhatsgoingonwhydoesithurtWHATSWRONGWITHME

The children screamed.

The lights came back to life.

The man in the jacket was gone, and the golden child went to sleep.

He was seventeen years old.

And his name was Vanitas.

III.

Years later, a sleepy child with blond hair and stormy blue eyes suffered from nightmares. He loved storms, because he could play in the rain. It made him feel clean and content, like he gets a new chance to start over. It always brightened his mood. Unfortunately for him, it’s winter time, and that means no rain.

The boy was friendly and respectful. He addressed adults as sir and ma’am and he always did what his parents told him to. He treated his friends with love and kindness, and helped out around the house whenever he could. His life was like a dream. But he suffered from frequent nightmares, which was why he did his best to compensate. But no matter how much he helped others, no one could help him with his problem.

In his nightmares he sees a boy much older than him save people. He hears screaming and crying and sees children hugging each other. He sees adults shaking in fear and worry. He sees golden eyes and hears crows. It sends shivers down his spine to think about. So he doesn't think about it. And it's all right because it's just a nightmare and nightmares aren't real.

His name was Ventus.

And he was only eight when he went to sleep.

If Ventus had to choose a favorite season other than spring for obvious reasons, it would be summer. Sometimes there would be a heat wave and rain would follow, being amplified with thunder and lightning. But sadly for him, it was winter. Which meant cold, ice, snow, snow, and more snow.

At least he had a huge hill behind his house to go sledding down.

Bundled up in fluffy winter garments, Ventus waddled over to the top of the hill, snow crunching underneath his boots. He set his sled down on the snow and looked down the hill. 

At the slope of the hill was woods. There were trees of all sorts and rocks scattered about. In the trees fairly close to the slope was a small lake. Ice covered the top and leaves littered the scene. Ventus smiled to himself. He was going to slide down the hill!

Settling himself into his sled, he griped the sides and shifted his weight forward. The sled sped down the hill, the child's laughter echoing through the trees.

If Ventus had been paying a bit more attention, he would have noticed other rock in his path. But being the kid that he is, he didn't see it until it was too late. 

He shifted his weight to hopefully dodge the rock, but was unsuccessful. His course changed drastically and he was no longer headed towards a clearing but towards the frozen lake. Slightly panicked and knowing full well that if he jumped off he would be badly hurt, he tried to shift his weight again. It only made him go faster. His sled hit another rock and he was sent crashing onto the lake. The ice was not thick enough and broke underneath him. His head disappeared under the water.

Seconds later his head popped up above the water, the boy gasping for breath. Coughing and spluttering and trying to get as much air as he could, he tried to heave himself up onto the ice. All it did was break. The water was freezing and his skin burned. His clothes dragged him down as he grew weaker and they became even heavier. His fingers hurt so badly and he was shaking violently. His teeth clattered as he tried again to get onto the ice. His head disappeared under the water.

He didn't come up again.

The water slowly stilled once more, the broken ice and damaged sled the only evidence anyone was even there.

Silence echoed through the trees.

The stormy child went to sleep.

He was eight years old.

And his name was Ventus.

IV.

Then he was a blond boy with deep blue eyes with an affinity for nature. He experienced heartache throughout his life, starting with the betrayal of his best friend. The man the blond had considered his best friend, dare he say brother, was a tall, older man by the name of Axel. When one of Axel’s friends had seen him with the blue eyed child, they had asked if he was friends with the tree hugging loser. Axel of course ditched the nature lover, for popularity, and the blond was alone. I'm not a tree hugging loser, dammit!

Then he met two lovely girls named Naminé and Xion. Xion had black silky hair and dark happy eyes, and she loved nature just as much as he did, and Naminé was a pale blond and she loved to draw it. Years passed by for them and the hole in the blond boy's heart had been mended. Then his and Naminé’s world shattered when Xion was killed in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. Both had been struck with grief, but Naminé couldn't face the reality. Shortly after Xion's funeral, the blond twin had killed herself, leaving behind nothing but a drawing of the best friends with the words 'I’m sorry’ beautifully written.

The boy had a hole where his heart should be.

His name was Roxas.

And he was fourteen when he went to sleep. 

Roxas was walking through his favorite forest, the forest where he met Xion and Naminé, when he saw it. A sign. Kneeling down, he covered his mouth as he saw what was written.

'NEW PARKING SPACE. BURN/CUT DOWN TREES FOR SPACE.’

Standing back up he whipped around at the sound of snapping twigs and low voices. Quickly he ran behind a large tree and peeked around the trunk, watching as two burly men walked around, talking to each other and spray painting X’s on especially wide trees.

Silently he ran around the men, deeper into the forest, when he smelled smoke. Looking around, Roxas soon found the source; a team of men setting fire to dry foliage and sparking old trees. They dashed off out of the forest and away from the flames. They hurriedly closed the gates leading to the trees and locked them, before walking off, oblivious to the fact that they had trapped someone, that they had trapped Roxas, inside.

Roxas ran to the gate and shook it, attempting to loosen the lock. No good. Next he attempted to climb it, but of course, that was bust, too. The flames continued to rise and old trees started to crack and pop. Smoke was obscuring his vision and it became difficult to breathe. His eyes stung and his throat burned. The heat became worse and worse as it became harder to see and harder to breathe and ohmygoshicantseeit’ssohotsohottoohotTOOHOTIT’STOOHOTSOMEBODYHELP--

Roxas covered his mouth and nose and counted to ten. Alright, time to look for another way out. Making sure to keep his mouth and nose covered, he squinted his eyes and took slow, deep breaths. He jogged deeper into the burning forest, sweat covering his forehead as he desperately searched the flames. And then his foot got caught.

As he fell forward he sprawled his arms out on front of him, burning them. He turned around and tried to free his foot but it wouldn't come loose. His eyes stung and his throat burned and his arms and legs ached. He heard more trees crack and the smoke started to choke the blond. 

Frantically he pulled and tugged on his foot and tried to rip apart the root he was stuck under. Finally, the root gave way and Roxas scrambled to his feet, running as fast as he could through the smoke and ash. As he ran he kicked up soot and and forgot to cover his face. He took deep breathes and ran as fast as he could, tears and heat blurring his vision. Everything went black.

His skin had turned red and he was openly bleeding.

The disgusting stench of blood and burning flesh wafted through the air.

More trees cracked and popped.

Another tree fell over.

The nature loving child went to sleep.

He was fourteen years old.

And his name was Roxas.

V.

The lovers were on top of the world, and the mistake was exhausted, the sky was exhausted. And the wind didn't want to let him go.

“I’m so tired. Please let go. Please, Darling. Please let me go.”

The sky sobbed and pleaded and begged. He begged and begged and begged, but the wind just would not let him go. She kept her hold on him tight, and refused to let him drop. 

“Please let go. Let me love you forever. Please my darling, please let me go.”

She hesitated. She knew how badly he wanted to go, she knew how badly he wanted to just stop. She would know because the sky had begged for thousand upon thousands of years for the same thing. To be released. And all of his begging and sobbing and crying had finally gotten to her.

She finally caved.

“Sora, beloved, at least tell me what this is. Please.”

Reluctantly, the wind caved.

The mistake smiled serenely as the wind solemnly tousled his spiky brown hair. With glassy eyes facing forward, and sunkissed arms outstretched, he let out a deep, content sigh. The wind whipped around the boy frantically, as if begging him not to do it. Not to jump. (Not to close the book.) Quietly, barely audible, the mistake whispered to the wind, whispered to the only one who knew, “Goodnight, my darling. I’ll love you even into the next life. Let me love you forever.” (And she let him go.) The wind calmed herself down and the child fell forward. The mistake had erased this world’s only blemish; himself.

“Nine point eight, Kaze, my darling. Nine point eight.”

Finally, the sky went to sleep.

His age is lost to time.

And his name was Sora.

**Author's Note:**

> there will be a chapter two ok


End file.
